


Who wants to live forever?

by singleword



Category: The Matrix (Movies)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-14
Updated: 2012-05-14
Packaged: 2020-01-23 10:51:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18548305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singleword/pseuds/singleword
Summary: "Neo, oh no, your eyes – "You swallow, wishing you could soothe your fingers over raw skin. But this time, it seems, you're not enough to heal him. And it's that, more than his blind eyes staring past you, that breaks your heart.[written mostly to process the end of the trilogy - fanfiction is therapy, right?]





	Who wants to live forever?

_who dares to love forever  
...when love must die?_

"Neo, oh no, your eyes – "  
You swallow, wishing you could soothe your fingers over raw skin. But this time, it seems, you're not enough to heal him. And it's that, more than his blind eyes staring past you, that breaks your heart.  
"I'll be okay. It's all right, Trin." That nickname you once hated, cherished now because it comes from him. "But I think you'll have to drive."  
Your only response is to hold him closer to you, muffling in his shoulder what should be a laugh but feels like a sob. If you clench your hands in his sweater, they might stop shaking.  
Focus girl. Pull it together – three aspects of the one person – your inside, your outside, and the one who reconciles them both.  
_Get up Trinity, just get up._  
"Come on," you murmur, climbing to your feet. He's a little unsteady, but his shoulders are set. Slowly you guide him, through the Logos' unfamiliar levels, back up to the bridge. His feet shuffle, and the hand that's not in yours reaches vaguely out, guarding against low hanging pipes and doorways. If this was the Neb, his eyes wouldn't matter.  
As he eases back into his chair, fumbling for the straps, you notice his teeth bared in a grimace.  
"Does it hurt too much?" You know he can live with pain (you have to in this world) but all the same you don't want him to.  
"The cold air," he presses into the cushions. "Stings a bit."  
There aren't words enough right now. All you do is reach for the hem of your undershirt, tearing a long strip of cotton worn as soft as gauze.  
"What are you doing?" his face turns to you, a hand lifts.  
"Close your eyes, I'll bandage them. It might help."  
A slow nod, and a thick "Alright."  
Fold the cloth, step behind him, and lay it gently over scorched and torn flesh. The blood is drying, caking solid and dark. He breathes in, moving to catch your hand as you go to step away.  
"Thanks Trin."  
You make no reply.

"Do you see what's out there?"  
"Yes."  
"If you tell me we'll make it, I'll believe you."  
His hand, again, reaches across the gulf. You meet it, feeling warmth through the slick of grime and sweat. There is, in his touch, all the reassurance you saw in his eyes before.  
"We'll make it. We have to."  
And you believe him. Totally. Utterly. Beyond all logic and reason.  
And even as you see the enemy hurtling toward you, even as fire obscures vision and metal clangs in shuddering contact with the hull of the ship, you keep his hand gripped in yours. Despite the little voice that says you could probably manoeuvre better with two hands, you don't dare let go.  
"I can't beat them," his words are muffled through pain.  
"What'll we do?" _Focus Neo. Concentrate. You'll have an answer for me; I believe in you._  
"Go up, over them."  
"What?" _I trust you Neo, but –_  
"The sky, it's the only way."  
Wrench the controls, lean back as the ship rears, clawing through the lighting and thunder. The sentinels fall like insects crushed, their circuits fried.  
And then . . . and then.  
"Beautiful."  
The sky. Blue and clear, the brightness of the sun running liquid through the windshield making your eyes water. It's the sun you blame, not the blue of the flawless clouds or the infinite subtleties of tone in the light and the shadow: the white and the grey and the blue. And the blue.  
And yet, and yet you're falling. Down again, through the dark and the storm, down to a bleak stretch of sprawling metal and stone. The machines belong so well in a land so barren.  
The ship does not respond, so far from earth the pads echoed out to nothing. But he speaks, calm and even and certain.  
"Pump the igniter, the engine will start."  
Careful girl, don't break the lever.  
"Again, slowly."  
So certain. So, so sure.  
"Now!"  
A jerk as the ship hauls up out of its dive. You pull up, pull back, trying to clear the machine towers but –

– too late. Not enough.  
Hearing the nightmare sound of metal on metal, it seems you're back on the Neb, the ship ripping apart around you as you lean over him, all that time ago.  
_Neo, I'm not afraid anymore._  
Rushing – slipping – pain – beyond anything but white noise and you're thrown back out of your chair, pinned, unable to move.  
"Trin?"  
That nickname.  
"Trinity? _Trinity?_ "  
You find voice enough to speak, "I'm here."  
"Where?"  
"Here."  
You see his hands scrabbling over bent steel and broken glass, and you hope he doesn't get hurt. His skin finds yours, smooth and uncut, and his fingers trail to your shoulder.  
You look up at him, smiling a little.  
"We made it."  
"You said we would."  
"It's unbelievable, Trin, lights everywhere." As he turns to blindly look for what only he can see, you focus on the knot in his bandage, the soft hair at the back of his neck. You remember how short his hair had once been, soft as velvet with the newness of the sensation. Hands, through and over hair, tracing the lines of mouth and jaw, and kissing, cautious and simple. Learning each other, inch by inch.  
"I wish you could see what I see."  
"You've already shown me so much."  
Something in your voice alerts him then, he turns back to you, hands searching.  
"What is it, Trinity? What's wrong?"  
It hurts to tell him this. "I can't come with you, Neo." Inhale, carefully. "I've gone as far as I can."  
"Why?" searching hands find (and see) the metal thrust through you. As his fingers graze over the steel the movement shudders through your ribs. His lips part, denying. "Oh, no."  
Cut him off, squeeze his hand again, gripping it like a lifeline.  
"It's all right. It's time. I've done all that I could do. Now you have to do the rest. You have to finish it. You have to save Zion."  
"I can't," he shakes his head, his thumb moving over your knuckles rhythmically. He holds your hand close to him, warm against his chest. "Not without you."  
But this is what you brought him here for. Sooner or later (you've always known it) he'll have to fight without you there to guard his back.  
"Yes, you can." Move your fingers, the texture of them against his is something definite. "You will. I believe it, I always have."  
"Trinity," warm skin ghosts over your cheek, somehow not hurting the scratches there. "Trinity. You can't die. You can't."  
You are a soldier. You never expected to grow old. And back on the Hammer, as soon as you knew you were going with him, you knew that neither of you would return from this last mission.  
"Yes, I can. You brought me back once, but not this time."  
He chokes, clutching your hand. You wish he wouldn't cry, the salt will burn, harsh against his eyes.  
"Do you remember..." you swallow, gathering yourself for this. Cloth sticks wetly to your back, clinging like wet rags. "On that roof after you caught me... the last thing I said to you?"  
He doesn't want to speak. It means he’ll have say goodbye. Tremors run through his hand into yours.  
"You said, 'I'm sorry'."  
"That was my last thought. I wished I had one more chance, to say what really mattered, to say how much I loved you, how grateful I was for every moment I was with you."  
If you had the strength to move your arm you'd wipe away the glistening of fresh blood near his mouth. But you need to say this.  
"But by the time I knew how to say what I wanted to, it was too late." You smile. Soft, and faint, and it hurts somehow, but it would hurt more not to smile. Not to feel. "But you brought me back. You gave me my wish. One more chance to say what I really wanted to say."  
It's so cold here, the wind chills you in small breaths, breaths as short as your own. Neo shivers, from cold or pain you cannot tell.  
But you see, in this blue light, all the shadows and glows of the clouds, reflected in metal and cloth.  
"Kiss me, once more."  
His hand trembles over your hair. You held him like this once, your hands firm on his shoulders as you held on, refusing to let him slip from you.  
Now, your time is over. Yet its passing is not so bad, not when you know that you had it, once (this time, this life with him). It's more than you ever could have wished for; this warmth and scent of him by your side, at the last.  
"Kiss me."  
And even as you close your eyes, tasting salt and flight and love, it's like the first time.

_but touch my tears_  
_with your lips_  
_touch my world_  
_with your fingertips_  
_and we can have forever  
_and we can love forever__


End file.
